He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you. She felt flattered. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him.
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